A Tale Of A Loser
by the short bus
Summary: Jon, a complete loser, is desperate to find more in his sad, pathetic life. He moved to Bridgeport in hopes of becoming a celebrity. Will he achieve his goals?


"Jon!" a deep voice bellowed down a pee-stained hallway. "It's time to get up!"

Jon, a socially-awkward 33 year old, awoken from his slumber. He dreamt of spaceships and aliens like he always did. He always had a reoccurring dream where he was the pilot of a giant spaceship and his super hot alien girlfriend would be next to him, whispering sweet nothings into his earwax-filled ears. But, every time Jon woke up, he tried to swallow down the bitter feeling of how horrible his real life was.

Jon grunted and pooted at the same time, and sat up on the edge of the bed. He rubbed his tired, swollen eyes. As he stood up, all the joints in his body cracked due to his massive weight. Stepping out of his room full of Captain America, Batman, and Spiderman posters, he walked down the hallway, narrowly escaping the piles of poop from his cat, Honey Boo Boo.

Honey Boo Boo was his cat he had since he was a weirdo in pre-school. He was very old, but still in good health, despite having a horrible shitting problem. Honey Boo Boo took shits constantly on Jon's white carpet. You can only imagine the stains. It has gotten so bad that the carpet almost looks like it's naturally brown with occasional white spots everywhere.

"Jon, there you are!" his mother cooed, pinching Jon's acne-covered cheek lovingly. "It's about time you woke up! It's five in the afternoon!"

Jon smacked his mother's hand away, scowling at how he was treated like a baby by his mother. He was his mother's youngest child, and so of course he was babied.

"I've got to go to work, so I want you to clean up Honey Boo Boo's poop, okay?" Jon's mom asked sweetly, pointing to a fresh pile on their kitchen floor.

Jon stomped his foot on the floor like a 3-year-old throwing a tantrum in Wal-Mart.

"Mom! I don't wanna clean up shit for the rest of my pathetic life!" Jon whined.

"Well, maybe you should get some friends, honey." Jon's mom insisted, putting her purse over her shoulder. "Well, I've got to go now. Bye!"

Jon's mom slammed the door and drove off to Target, where she was the manager. She worked a few jobs on the side that were illegal, but she did whatever she could to support her and her child. Jon demanded new video games each month, and she had to work hard to meet his needs.

Jon cried silently for a few minutes, then proceeded to clean up Honey Boo Boo's poop. After he thought his work was done, he took a step into his living room, hearing a loud spat noise from underneath his foot. Jon stood there stiffly, feeling a soft, warm substance squeeze between his toes. He lifted up his foot, noticing a smelly, brown liquid all over his foot; poop.

Jon let out a loud, angry scream.

Honey Boo Boo appeared out of nowhere, looking up at Jon, meowing fondly.

"You dumb ass cat! Why do you shit so much? Why can't you use the litter box?" Jon fussed, his face getting all red.

The cat just simply meowed in response.

Jon stomped away, leaving the pile of poop to harden on his living room floor. He went into the bathroom and looked into the mirror, nearly screaming in sheer horror at what he saw. His reflection was horrid; he was covered in acne from head to toe. Greenish mold grew on some of the infected acne, making him look similar to the incredible Hulk; if the incredible Hulk was obese instead of muscular. He had dark circles around his eyes from the lack of sleep he has had in his life from staying up late watching porn and playing video games. His lips were swollen and red, and peeling horribly due to making-out with Spiderman posters. Hair grew out of his ears that extended 4 feet outwards. He looked similar to an obese elf.

He reached underneath the sink to get his razor, shaving his head bald again, due to having lice. He didn't even bother to shave his back or his ears, which really needed to be trimmed with a lawn mower or something of the sort.

He walked back into the living room, sitting on the poop-stained sofa, turning his laptop on.

He signed into MSN, appearing offline to half his contacts. He only appeared online to 3 of his contacts. He messaged them all at once, and only one instantly replied. He let out a roar of anger, throwing the computer at the wall. He hated it when no one replied instantly. He never thought that people could be actually doing something productive. He just wanted people to respond instantly, that was all.

Panting heavily like he just got finished having sex (which is nearly impossible for Jon, considering he's such a loser), he crawled over to where his laptop layed on the floor, picking it up and putting it back in his lap. He angrily typed out to one Internet friend, "You have the fucking attention span of a knat."

Sending it, he failed to realize he spelled 'gnat' wrong.

When his Internet friend suddenly appeared offline, he roared like a lion with anger once more. He roared so loud, that he actually strained too hard, causing himself to poop in his pants. He automatically blushed, taking off his pants as he felt the liquid poop smear against his hairy, acne-covered butt-cheeks. His cat, who pranced back into the living room to see what all this commotion was about, automatically halted when he saw Jon's naked form.

The cat screamed like Beyonce hitting a high note, and quickly darted underneath Jon's bed to hide from the horrid sight.

Jon began crying slightly, farting while doing so. He felt so ugly and useless. After his random crying fit he usually had, he ran to the kitchen to eat some blueberry muffins his mom had made him the day before. He ignored the smeared poop on his ass, mostly because he was used to the smell of poop in his condo. He quickly shoved a huge blueberry muffin into his mouth, swallowing it whole. Then he pranced into the bathroom to randomly stare at himself.

He buried his face in his hands when he saw how ugly he looked. He cried softly again, wishing he looked like Channing Tatum or Sasuke Uchiha. He had no potential to look beautiful; he had a huge, wide nose that was the size of an apricot. His face was covered with acne, freckles, and wrinkles creasing on his forehead. He had a random bump that stuck out the side of his head. He got it checked out and it turned out that his skull was just shaped weird. He always thought of it as an alien-shaped skull. He wanted to be an alien so badly and leave Earth and go to planet 'Hasdeeyayabooboo' and be the king and make the alien bitches fall at his feet.

But, he knew that would never happen. Despite being an atheist, he prayed every night; wishing he was a hot, alien stud. He imagined his body being so muscular that he couldn't even turn his head. He imagined his body being neon green, and having flawless skin and small pores. He also imagined not having such bad gas. Seriously, his gas was horrible. He recalled doing sit-ups in gym class and he nearly shitted his pants. All the kids laughed, while Jon only blushed furiously.

He got into the shower, turning the water on cold and turning on the radio. He turned it to a popular rap/hip hop station. As he stepped into the shower, the song, "Candy Shop" by 50 cent came on. Jon felt suddenly sexy and began to move his body in the shower as he cool water ran down his stomach rolls. He looked down, noticing the poop and mold that was once on his body going down the drain. He smiled with relief. Maybe he should take showers more often. Squeezing some strawberry scented shampoo onto his bald head, he pretended he had long, beautiful golden locks of hair. But, seriously, Jon was just as bald as Squidward.

After stepping out of the shower, he quickly ran, dripping wet and naked, into the living room. He quickly appeared online instead of away on MSN and replied to one of his Internet friends that messaged him back. Minimizing the MSN window, he went to Deviant Art. After checking the new alien artworks produced by his loser Internet friends that didn't even talk to him (but he considered them as friends because he's lonely), he decided he would draw some himself. Pulling out his sketch pad, he began doodling an alien that looked similar to a craw fish, in his opinion anyway. In reality, it looked like a stick-figure with crooked-ass penis. After he finished his work, he smiled happily.

He was _totally_ going to sell this at Barnes & Noble!

He quickly put on his clothes which consisted of a Eminem t-shirt that he stole from Hot Topic and a pair of old, shitty jeans that was covered with mustard and semen. He put on some accessories such as a pink necklace that said 'princess' that he also stole from Claire's. Letting out a small fart that smelled rancid, he quickly dashed out his cheap condo, completely forgetting to say goodbye to his MSN friends.

He walked up to the bus stop, sitting next to a couple of pre-teen girls. Jon felt himself blush, and looked at the girls in the corner of his eye. The girls paid no attention to the creep sitting next to them, but they fanned their nose due to his extreme odor. The looked at the under-side of their shoes, wondering if they suddenly stepped in dog shit. Jon felt suddenly embarrassed. Maybe he should have put on deodorant or something. Jon slowly shifted away from the girl, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

Suddenly the bus came. Jon hopped up instantly, in a hurry to get away from the young girls so he wouldn't embarrass himself. The driver of the bus screamed loudly when Jon appeared in view. The hair sticking out his ears got caught in the door of the bus when it closed, causing Jon to yelp. But, the bus driver ignored it and frantically jumped out the window of the bus, committing suicide. Jon pulled a pair of scissors out of his pocket, snipping the hair off his ears so he could actually move again. He sat in the driver's seat of the bus and drove off to the mall, running over the driver laying dead in the street anyway.

When he got to the mall, he pulled out the picture of his newest design for an alien and set it on display in the entrance of Barnes & Noble. He waited, and waited, and waited. But, nobody even paid him the slightest attention. Except one couple with a small child, who pointed at Jon and screamed and ran away, crying. Jon held back the tears, hoping he could sell his pathetic excuse of a drawing.

Suddenly a group of teenage boys approached Jon, surrounding the nerdy boy.

"What the heck is _that_?" asked one of the boys, pointing at his sketch. "It looks fucking retarded!"

Jon bit his bottom lip, looking down at the floor, trying his best to hold back the tears.

"Yeah, how the hell do you expect to sell something so stupid, little nerdy turdy?" said one boy, cackling loudly as he knocked Jon's sketch off it's stand.

All of the teenage boys started stomping on the sketch, making the piece of paper tear and crumple up. One of the boys actually pulled out his you-know-what and started peeing on it. Jon let out a sob as he buried his ugly, ashy face in his hands. He couldn't watch anymore.

"Dude. Get a life and stop being such a big cry baby," one of the boys said, pushing Jon off of his chair, causing Jon to roll like a rollie-pollie into the parking lot.

The boys laughed hysterically and proceeded to go into the bookstore. Jon, on the other hand, felt completely humiliated and useless. He thought his sketch was pretty good. But, that's the thing Jon failed to realize, his opinions were pretty stupid and invalid. Jon just layed there in the parking lot, in beetle position, crying silently to himself. Several cars honked the horn at the nerdy boy laying in the street. One police man in a police vehicle actually considered to run the poor boy over, but decided it wasn't worth it.

After a few hours past, it began raining on the boy. Jon winced as the water began to cover his chubby form. He stood up finally, and ran into the mall. He wanted to lash out; he wanted to get his revenge somehow. Stopping in front of a store, he smiled; his ugly, yellow, rotting teeth causing several people to run away in terror.

He was going to steal something from Charlotte Russe.

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AN: I know. What a pathetic schmuck, right? Review, please!


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